


Stronger Than Moonshine

by vanillalime



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Young Adult, Angst with a Happy Ending, Community: hardtime100, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Songfic, purple rain - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 09:52:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10409484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillalime/pseuds/vanillalime
Summary: Toby tries to talk Chris out of skipping town.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LiveJournal in July 2016. Written for the Hardtime100 challenge prompt "Purple Rain."
> 
> Songfic based on the song "Ventura Highway" by America. Full lyrics posted in the endnotes.

**_Wishin' on a falling star_**  
**_Waitin' for the early train_**  
**_Sorry, boy, but I've been hit by_**  
**_Purple rain_**

______________________________________

Toby turned sharply into the depot's gravel parking lot, loose stones spraying high behind his wheels. Decelerating slightly, he scanned the immediate area, his eyes desperately searching.

Moments later, he spotted a solitary figure in the distance, sitting on the edge of the old train platform. Even in the fading light, Toby recognized that familiar silhouette. Heaving a great sigh of relief, he proceeded to park his car in the otherwise empty lot.  
  
Toby braced himself against the steering wheel and tried to collect himself. He needed to handle this situation very carefully. He needed to be the voice of reason to combat whatever voices were inside Chris's head.  
  
Make the wrong move, say the wrong thing, and Chris might be gone for good.  
  
In time, Toby opened his car door and got out. He hesitated, then slowly reached down under the driver's seat. His confident fingertips searched for a familiar smooth surface. Contact was made, and Toby pulled out the flask and slid it into the back pocket of his jeans.  
  
He shut the door and began walking toward the depot. A soft breeze blew through the tall wild grass that grew alongside the rail line, and Toby impulsively broke off a blade. He anxiously twisted it around his finger, stopping only after it had turned purple from lack of circulation.  
  
He reached the platform steps and cautiously climbed them. At the top, he paused to look down the length of the platform toward Chris.  
  
He was sitting all alone, his legs dangling over the side, his back propped up against an oversized duffle bag. His face was turned up toward the sky, where the summer sunset had transformed the white clouds into an artist’s palette of yellows, pinks, and purples.  
  
Toby shuffled in place, and Chris turned to look at him. Slowly, Toby started to walk in his direction, doing his best to appear nonchalant, and Chris returned his attention to the sky.  
  
When Toby was just a few feet away, Chris pointed up to the clouds. He drew a circle with his finger and jabbed it into the air. "Alligator," he remarked.  
  
Toby stopped in his tracks and looked up. He saw nothing but colored streaks. He nodded his head in agreement anyway. "Or some kind of lizard, I guess."  
  
Briefly, Toby wondered if Chris had been smoking anything. Then again, Chris had always had a vivid imagination.  
  
Chris brought his hand down and stared straight ahead. A moment later, he said, "You heard?"  
  
"Yeah," Toby replied softly. "I heard."  _Everybody’s heard._  
  
Toby slowly took a few more steps to close the gap between them. Then he sat himself down next to Chris. "So, what’s your plan?" he asked.  
  
"Train leaves at 6:30 in the morning."  
  
Toby had time, then. "Where’re you going?"  
  
Chris turned away from him, his eyes following the tracks that continued into the countryside as far as they could see. "West," was all he said.  
  
Toby rolled his eyes in exasperation. "And you were just going to leave without saying good-bye."  
  
It took a great deal of effort for those words to come out as a casual observation, and not an accusatory question.  
  
There was an prolonged pause. "I was planning to send you postcards," Chris finally said, without a trace of humor.  
  
"Does your mother know you’re here?"  
  
Chris snorted. He turned and, for the first time, made direct eye contact with Toby. Then he looked away again, and Toby knew better than to pursue that line of questioning.  
  
They sat in silence. The remaining light continued to die away, the purple clouds engulfing the rest. A soft roll of thunder could be heard in the distance.  
  
Finally, Chris spoke. "I could’ve killed him, Toby."  
  
Toby caught his breath. "I know," he whispered.  
  
"I wanted to. I was so angry, I couldn’t think straight. If the O’Reilys hadn’t been there to pull me off… " Chris’s voice trailed away.  
  
"No one's looking to arrest you, you know," Toby informed him. "The cops are under the impression that you acted in self-defense. Ryan told them that the other guy started everything. Old man McManus even backed him up."  
  
Chris blinked. "No shit."  
  
"Yeah. Apparently, McManus is not a complete asshole after all. He threw the guy out, told him to leave and never come back."  
  
As Toby waited for Chris to digest this information, a quick flash of lightning ripped through the clouds. Not long after, the quiet was disrupted by another crack of thunder, louder and closer than before.  
  
Chris sighed. "It don't matter," he muttered. "I gotta get out of here. What that guy said... it's not the first time something like that's happened. And it won't be the last."  
  
Chris turned and looked at Toby again. "All the shit that people are sayin' about me… It’s like everyone knows. People hear the words 'Chris Keller,' and they automatically think 'fag.' And there ain’t nothin' I can do about it."  
  
Toby smiled weakly. "You can always change your name."  
  
Chris didn't return the smile. Instead, he shook his head and said, "I can't deal with it anymore. The insults, the threats, the cheap shots... You don't know what it's like."  
  
That declaration touched a nerve, and Toby could no longer contain himself. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he asked incredulously.  
  
Chris opened his eyes wide in surprise.  
  
"At least you know where you stand with the idiots in this town," retorted Toby. "Do you think it’s any better when they're all whispering behind your back?"  
  
Toby tried to calm himself, but the words came tumbling out. "You should see what it's like at my parents' country club," he explained in a rush. "I’ve caught people staring at me with these  _looks_ , like they think I'm some kind of freak. A few of them shun me outright, as if I'm the jezebel who's just worn a red dress to the cotillion ball. When someone actually acknowledges me, it's all very fake and forced."  
  
Toby exhaled slowly before continuing. "But you know the worst part? It’s the way they act around my parents—there’s this undercurrent of pity and embarrassment. That's what really eats me up inside."  
  
"Jesus, Tobe, I had no idea."  
  
Toby huffed. "Why do you think I’m going all the way to Boston for college?"  
  
Chris shrugged. "I thought maybe you liked the New England winters," he replied. Under his breath, he muttered, "God knows  _this_  town don’t look good in snow."  
  
Toby just shook his head, at a loss to vocalize his own feelings of wanderlust.  
  
The wind picked up, and sharp gusts of cooler air replaced the warm summer breeze. The sky grew dark as dusk fell into place, its deep purple haze threatening them with its imminent storm.  
  
"How do you handle it all?" Chris quietly asked. "I’d be pickin' fights left and right with those people. You must be strong as hell."  
  
"Not really," Toby sighed. "I find most of my strength in the arms of my good friend Jack."  
  
Before Chris had a chance to react, Toby withdrew the silver flask from his back pocket. He held it up and shook its contents. Another flash of lightning lit up Chris's face, and Toby thought he saw a hint of a smile.  
  
Toby began to relax a little. "Comfort from Tennessee’s finest family," he added with a wink. He unscrewed the top and took a swig, then handed the flask to Chris.  
  
Chris raised it to his lips, took a drink, and coughed. "That's strong, all right," he gasped.  
  
Chris wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He moved to hand the flask back to Toby, but he was startled by another crack of thunder, by far the loudest one yet. He jumped in place and jostled the flask, and whiskey sloshed onto the platform between them.  
  
Suddenly, the clouds above them exploded. Purple rain fell from the sky, pummeling them relentlessly. In a manner of seconds, they were drenched.  
  
Chris turned his attention to Toby, looking flustered and... bewildered. It was as though he was searching for some kind of explanation, like he thought Toby had the power to control the storm. Toby was reminded of a lost puppy looking for its home.  
  
And Toby knew, in that moment, that Chris wasn’t getting on any train.  
  
Toby moved closer and nudged him. With a smile, he grabbed the flask out of Chris’s hand and took another gulp.  
  
Toby tilted his head back and looked up into the sky, letting the free wind blow through his hair. He shook his head violently, droplets flying everywhere. More lightning, more thunder, and Toby howled into the rain. Then he turned toward Chris and started laughing.  
  
A grin had replaced the unease on Chris’s face, and he started laughing, too. Toby passed him the flask, and Chris took another drink of his own. He reached over and gently combed Toby’s dripping bangs out of his eyes.  
  
Then the two of them just sat there, laughing and drinking, not saying a word. They let the summer storm beat down upon them, and Toby felt empowered by its energy, rather than defeated.  
  
Eventually, the wind and thunder and lightning died away, and the rain turned to a drizzle. Toby sensed it was time to bring the situation to a close. After returning the empty flask to his back pocket, he reached over to rest his hand on Chris’s bare, wet arm.  
  
"Come to Boston with me," he proposed. "I can break the lease on my dorm room, and we could get a little apartment off-campus instead. There are lots of job opportunities there; you can work while I go to school."  
  
Chris didn't say anything, but Toby could practically see the wheels turning inside his head as he mulled the idea over.  
  
"In the meantime," Toby continued, "come home with me. You can ride out the rest of the summer with me and my family. I’m sure you can stay in our guest suite."  
  
Chris glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. "Your parents won't have a problem with that?"  
  
"I don't think so," Toby answered thoughtfully. "Not if you promise to keep your nose clean and stay out of trouble." He paused before quietly adding, "They understand how much you mean to me."  
  
Chris looked down and stared at the train tracks, which now disappeared quickly into the darkness.  
  
As Toby waited patiently, he realized that the rain had stopped altogether. The clouds had dispersed, replaced by the moon and a plethora of bright stars. Toby saw one of the stars fall through the sky, and he closed his eyes to make a wish.  
  
Moments later, he heard Chris say, "All right, then."  
  
Toby opened his eyes and smiled. He stood up and held out his hand. Chris grasped it, and Toby pulled him to his feet.  
  
Toby headed toward the stairs that led back to the parking lot. Chris grabbed the end of his duffle bag and joined him, awkwardly dragging the wet, heavy bag along the platform floor. After a few steps, Toby reached down to grab the other end.  
  
"Here, let me help," he said as he lifted it up.  
  
Chris stopped and made eye contact with Toby. He stood motionless, all his usual defenses stripped away and replaced by a vulnerability that only Toby was allowed to see.  
  
Toby held his gaze and waited. Finally, Chris whispered, almost inaudibly, "Don’t let go."  
  
Toby knew he wasn’t talking about the bag. With a confident nod of his head, Toby replied, "I won’t."  
  
Then, together, they walked away into the moonlit night, and Chris let Toby lead the way.

**Author's Note:**

> The flashfic prompt of "Purple Rain" was intended to honor Prince and his iconic song. However, the phrase "purple rain" was actually first coined by the band America in the lyrics to their 1972 hit _Ventura Highway._ I did some research, and there's contradictory information out there as to whether or not Prince was inspired by _Ventura Highway_ when he wrote his own song using the phrase. Regardless, _Ventura Highway_ is a gorgeous song in its own right, and I found its lyrics to be more appropriate for a B/K story (even if the song itself makes about as much sense as... well, _A Horse With No Name,_ which was America's biggest hit.) Here are the full lyrics:
> 
> "Ventura Highway" by America, lyrics by Dewey Bunnell
> 
> Chewing on a piece of grass  
> Walking down the road  
> Tell me, how long you gonna stay here, Joe?  
> Some people say this town don't look  
> Good in snow  
> You don't care, I know
> 
> Ventura Highway in the sunshine  
> Where the days are longer  
> The nights are stronger than moonshine  
> You're gonna go I know
> 
> 'Cause the free wind is blowin' through your hair  
> And the days surround your daylight there  
> Seasons crying no despair  
> Alligator lizards in the air, in the air
> 
> Wishin' on a falling star  
> Waitin' for the early train  
> Sorry boy, but I've been hit by purple rain  
> Aw, come on, Joe, you can always  
> Change your name  
> Thanks a lot, son, just the same
> 
> Ventura Highway in the sunshine  
> Where the days are longer  
> The nights are stronger than moonshine  
> You're gonna go I know
> 
> 'Cause the free wind is blowin' through your hair  
> And the days surround your daylight there  
> Seasons crying no despair  
> Alligator lizards in the air, in the air


End file.
